Coral POV

Finding one old man in a small town shouldn't have been this hard. I let out a frustrated huff, glancing around before moving on to the next town house. Each door I knocked on felt like another dead end, but I couldn't give up—not now. Jaune was counting on me, even if he didn't know it yet. No matter how hard he pushed himself to become a Huntsman, he wasn't going to get there on his own. He needed a teacher, someone who could show him how to survive out there. And he needed one soon.

A sword doesn't care how brave you are or how much you want to protect people. It won't stop you from getting torn apart by Grimm if you don't know what you're doing. Jaune might have the heart for it, but without proper training, all the courage in the world wouldn't mean much when the real danger showed up.

Normally, finding someone to teach you how to swing a blade wouldn't have been too hard. There were always people around who knew a thing or two and were willing to share. But nothing was ever simple for us. Not with Dad around. He made sure of that. It wasn't enough that he refused to teach us himself. He went out of his way to make sure no one else would, either. Walking through town, shaking hands, and flashing that fake smile of his, he'd made it perfectly clear: The Arc kids are off-limits. No training, not even a few pointers.

My feet carried me to the next townhouse, and I didn't hesitate as I walked straight into the lobby. Thankfully, a woman sat behind the desk, looking up as I entered.

"Scuse me, does someone named Richard live here?" I asked, doing my best to sound polite and innocent.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at me, puzzled. "Oh, are you family?"

"No," I said, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt for extra effect. "I'm trying to visit my grandpa's friend, but I kinda forgot where he lives." It was getting harder to pull off the "adorable" act as I got older, but being small, blonde, and playing the clueless kid still worked more often than not.

Her face softened. "Sure thing. He's out the door to the right, you're looking for number eighteen."

Hook, line, and sinker. I flashed her my brightest smile. "Okay, thank you!" I chirped before quickly stepping out, not giving her a chance to say more.

Like most neighborhoods, the townhomes all looked the same—identical structures lined up in neat rows. The only way to tell them apart was the decorations people placed outside. As I spotted unit eighteen, a weird certainty settled in my gut. This had to be the place.

I didn't remember much about Grandpa's old partner, except that he always reeked of tobacco, rarely smiled, and wore the plainest clothes imaginable. His house fit the memory perfectly: a dull brown door with no glass to let in light, flanked by windows with thick gray curtains drawn tightly on the inside. The whole place felt closed off and gloomy, like it was daring people to knock on the door.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. I didn't remember Richard being mean, but he wasn't exactly nice, either. And that was when he was with Grandpa. Who knew how he acted now?

Gathering my confidence, I knocked on the door three times and waited.

Nothing. Frustrated, I knocked again, harder this time. Before I could hit the door a third time, it swung open abruptly.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you! What do you want?" he barked.

The door revealed an old man with tanned, wrinkled skin, dressed in brown slacks and a gray cardigan. He leaned on a worn cane, his emerald eyes sharp beneath a mess of white hair streaked with gray. He looked me up and down, his gaze like a spotlight I couldn't escape.

"Well, I'll be," he muttered, his voice rough like sandpaper. "I was pretty sure you Arcs had up and forgotten about me after Lewis passed. What do you want?"

His presence was overwhelming, making me feel small and unsure. My mouth went dry, and when he prompted me again, the words just tumbled out.

"I need some help, sir."

His eyebrow lifted as he studied me with a frown. "Then go to your parents. They're responsible for you, not me." He turned to retreat back inside.

Panic bubbled up in my chest. I couldn't let him just walk away. My words tumbled out in a rush. "Wait! They won't help us. It's Jaune—he's trying to become a Huntsman, but Dad won't let him. He's training behind his back and won't give up, but someone needs to teach him how to fight, or he's going to get himself killed!"

Richard froze, his hand gripping the edge of the door. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. "You want me to train the brat behind his father's back, And then what? End up going toe-to-toe with that stubborn fool when he finds out? No thanks. I'm not interested in stirring up that hornet's nest."

"Please!" My voice cracked, but I pushed on. "He won't stop. He'll either make it or he'll get himself killed. I know it. Jaune already managed to unlock his Aura, and he's been training nonstop—"

"Ha!" He let out a sharp, derisive laugh, cutting me off mid-sentence. "You really expect me to believe some brat, who no one is willing to teach, managed to unlock his aura all on his own?" The old man shook his head dismissively and began to close the door in my face.

"You'll need a better story than that if you want anyone to help you. I'll tell you this, though–I won't tell your parents about this. In fact, I don't even remember your name. Now, go home." With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving me standing there, stunned.

For a moment, I struggled to process his words. The sharp click of the door locking snapped me out of my daze. You've got to be kidding me. That's it? No questions, no hearing me out—just outright rejection?

I couldn't decide what angered me more: the look of pity he gave me, as if I were some kid caught spinning a ridiculous lie, or how absurdly impossible he made it sound that Jaune, of all people, could have unlocked his aura. It was as if the very idea was some kind of cruel joke.

I couldn't bring myself to knock again—not that I thought he'd open the door. I didn't want to see his face anymore. Instead, I turned and stormed away, channeling all my frustration into every stomp as I trudged back home.

By the time I made it halfway, my legs ached with exhaustion. Normally, I'd have looked for a bench or a clean spot to rest, but I didn't care. I collapsed into the nearest patch of grass, letting my body sink into it as I stared up at the sky.

My thoughts raced as I lay there, tangled in frustration and confusion.

What do I do now?

Saffron Pov

It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon, Mom took the little ones out to the park for a picnic. Coral had disappeared, probably to hole up in the library all day, Lavender was in her room studying for her college exams, and Jaune had vanished after their little chat.

I couldn't stop replaying that conversation in my head. Had I been too harsh? The look of dread on his face when I told him he'd have to confront Jason wouldn't leave me alone.

I was sprawled on my usual spot on the couch, alone, with no one around to bother me, but I couldn't get comfortable. frustrated I grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it to the other end of the couch before flopping face first back into the cushions.

It'll be fine, I told myself. Knowing Jaune, he'd think everything over, probably come back for some help, maybe a few more pointers. Then he'd handle no problem kicking that shit head to the curb.

The confidence in those words felt hollow, though. They didn't make me feel any better. I kept twisting and turning on the couch, failing miserably to find a position that didn't make my skin itch with restlessness.

I have to help him get past this.

The sound of the front door opening broke me from my thoughts and restless stirring.

"Hey Saff I'm back." came Jaunes voice, a little more nasally than usual.

I turned and froze. He stood there looking miserable–blood dried and smeared across his upper lip, an ugly bruise blooming along his jaw, and his nose twisted at an angle that made my stomach churn.

Panic surged through me. "What did you do!?" I practically shrieked, bolting off the couch and rushing to him before the front door could even swing closed.

Jaune winced as I gently cupped his chin, tilting his head to get a better look at the damage.

"Saff, it's not that bad." Jaune muttered.

"Not that bad?" I could feel my face twist into a sneer as I spoke. "Jaune, your nose is crooked, your jaw looks like it's auditioning for a rainbow, and there's blood all over your face. Say something that stupid again, and I'll slap the bruise just to make sure it really hurts."

He huffed in response, clearly catching my drift, and tilted his head to give me a better look.

"What happened!?" Lavender's voice rang out from the hall as she stumbled out of her room, quickly closing in on us.

I stepped aside without hesitation. Sure, I knew some basic first aid, but Lavender was the aspiring med student. Jaune, being the little shit he always is, rolled his eyes as Lavender took over.

"Oh, come on Lavender, not you too. It's not that bad, seriously." He practically whined, and it pissed me off all over again. I made a promise, didn't I? Reaching forward, I flicked the bruise on his jaw, just hard enough to make my point.

Jaune hissed in pain, his jaw clenching.

"Right, doesn't hurt at all, my ass," I said smugly.

Lavender immediately slapped my hand away, glaring at me before turning back to Jaune.

"What? I warned him!" I protested, throwing up my hands. "He wants to scare the hell out of everyone in the house? Fine, he gets treated like a brat. Besides, it was just a flick—I even went easy on him!"

Lavender rolled her eyes but didn't bother responding, fully ignoring me as she tended to Jaune. Why were all my siblings such pains in the ass?

Leaving them to it, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a hand towel, and soaked it in hot water. By the time I returned, Lavender had Jaune sitting in a chair in the living room. She snatched the towel from me without a word and started dabbing gently at the blood under his nose.

Lavender balled the towel up and held it out to him. "Bite down on this. I'm going to reset your nose, and it's not going to feel good," she instructed.

Jaune leaned away, eyeing the towel like it might bite him. Lavender shoved it back toward his face. He started to protest but froze when he caught sight of my glare. With a resigned sigh, he bit down on the towel.

Lavender gripped his nose firmly and took a deep breath. "Okay, Jaune. On three. One, two—" She pulled before she even finished the count.

Jaune let out a strangled squeal as his nose snapped back into place. He immediately jerked his head away, massaging his nose with one hand while spitting the towel into his lap.

"Gods, can we not do that again?" he groaned, glaring at Lavender.

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Hey, maybe if you stopped getting your face smashed in, Lavender wouldn't have to play fixer-upper. It's not exactly a picnic for us, either."

Seeing him relax a little, I decided it was the perfect time to press him. "So," I said, narrowing my eyes just enough to imitate Mom's classic interrogation glare, "are you going to tell us what happened?"

"What do you mean?" Jaune blinked, looking genuinely puzzled.

I gawked at him. "Are you seriously pretending nothing happened? What, did you trip and fall or something?"

Jaune looked startled—and honestly confused. "What? No, I went to deal with Jason."

I froze, unable to believe what I'd just heard. "You dealt with it? Just like that? No talking to me first, no overthinking it?"

Lavender who first looked confused now took an angry glare as she stared down at me and Jaune "Hold on." She demanded. "What do you mean, deal with him?" Lavender, who had been standing quietly, suddenly adopted a sharp glare, her eyes darting between Jaune and me.

Jaune shrank back, scratching the back of his neck in that nervous way of his. "Nothing too extreme," he mumbled.

Lavender leaned forward, her expression hardening. "Spill it."

Without missing a beat, Jaune pointed a finger directly at me. "She told me to do it!"

"Hey!" I gasped, glaring at him. "Don't pin this on me!"

Lavender turned to me, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "And don't you give me that look!" I snapped. "Those guys were bullying him and crossed way over the line. Besides, only one of them went to the hospital for physical trauma… maybe two. How bad did you beat Jason?"

Lavender's head whipped back toward Jaune, her glare intensifying. "You sent someone to the hospital? Who?!" Jaune cringed, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't that bad," he muttered. "The ants just… did more than I expected."

Lavender's jaw dropped, her face aghast. "That was you?!" she practically screeched, the blood draining from her face. "I was there when that kid came in! If he had been even mildly allergic to those bites, he could've died! What were you thinking?!"

Jaune's gaze fell to his feet as he withdrew into himself just a little, I was a little worried how he would be doing afterwards, the ants did do a way better job than I thought they would and naturally he felt bad about it just not bad enough to stop but this was a bit much.

"Okay, Lavender, maybe ease up a bit," I interjected. "Everything they got—including the dead fish I hid in one of their A/C units—was fully deserved. Every injury, every bit of misery, they earned it. Now, instead of yelling, how about you help me cover up these bruises before Mom notices?"

Lavender spun toward me, incredulous. "You did what with a fish?! How big? No, wait—never mind. Not now." She turned back to Jaune, gently tilting his head to inspect the bruises. "You want to cover this with makeup? It probably hurts just to touch, let alone rub makeup all over it. To prove her point, she poked the edge of one particularly nasty purple splotch, and Jaune flinched, sucking in a sharp breath.

I shrugged. "Alright, genius, got a better idea?"

Lavender growled, her usual calm demeanor slipping. "Yeah! How about we take him to a hospital to make sure his jaw isn't cracked?!"

I rolled my eyes. "He's fine. It'll heal by tomorrow. We just need to hide it tonight."

Her eye twitched in frustration. "What do you mean it'll heal? If he could heal himself, wouldn't he have done it already?"

"Ah," Jaune suddenly said, his quiet voice cutting through the argument. Both of us turned to him, confused.

He blushed, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. Then it happened—a warm, golden glow radiated from him, filling the living room with soft light. I froze, stunned, as the bruises on his face and arms began to fade, the glow retreating as quickly as it had appeared.

Lavender broke the silence first. "You could do that the whole time?" Her voice was flat, bordering on disbelief.

Jaune sighed, slouching in his chair. "Yeah… I kinda forgot."

I couldn't help it. Between Jaune's sheer stupidity and the expression on Lavender's face, I lost it. I Collapsed onto the floor, laughter erupting out of me. "Hehehe… Haha… He forgot! He forgot! Hahahaha!"

I tried to stop—I really did—but the combination of Lavender's failed attempts to get mad and Jaune's face steadily reddening was too much. I laughed until tears streamed down my cheeks.

Jaune pouted audibly, sinking deeper into his chair. "A lot was going on, okay."

Through my giggles, I saw Lavender slowly drag a hand down her face before turning back to Jaune. She leaned in, inspecting his now unmarked skin with undisguised amazement, lightly prodding his cheek.

"You're completely fine," she murmured, almost to herself.

Still chuckling, I managed to choke out, "Coral said Jaune could heal with his aura, but I thought it only worked while he was sleeping!"

Jaune sighed, pulling away from Lavender's inspection. "I suppressed my aura during the fight with Jason so he wouldn't notice. Then… I forgot to let it work again."

He shot me a glare, clearly unimpressed with my continued laughter as I finally hauled myself up off the floor. "Everything's fine now. I'm tired, so I'm going to lie down."

Lavender ruffled his hair before he left. He relaxed slightly at the gesture, his tension easing as he disappeared up the stairs. As soon as he was gone, Lavender turned to me, lightly prodding my knee with her foot.

"You could've been nicer, you know."

I smirked, waving her off. "Nicer? He earned every bit of that. Besides, we've got work to do."

Lavender raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I'm part of this now?"

Flashing my best fake-friendly grin, I said, "Oh yeah. You get to distract Mom while I steal Gramps' old sword."

"From the safe?" she asked, giving me a look that practically screamed, You have no idea what you're doing. Offensive.

"Yup," I replied with a huff, brushing off her skepticism. "I'm sneaking in a friend who can crack it open… I think."

Lavender slouched, clearly unimpressed with my plan but resigned to her fate. She might not have liked it, but she knew she was stuck helping. Sometimes, being the only one with a plan was a pretty satisfying feeling.

Terra worked quickly, her fingers dancing over the keypad on my dad's safe. The faint glow of the screen illuminated her focused expression, her brow furrowed as she muttered to herself. I kept watch by the door, listening intently for any sign of movement from the rest of the house. Lavender was doing her part, keeping Mom distracted in the kitchen with some elaborate story about a botched science experiment. If we were lucky, Mom wouldn't even glance this way.

"I'm almost there," Terra whispered, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

"You're sure you can crack it?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

She shot me a quick grin, her confidence unshaken. "Have I ever let you down?"

The soft beep of the keypad unlocking answered for her. Terra swung the safe door open, revealing Crocea Mors resting on the top shelf. Even in the dim light, the blade seemed to gleam with its own weighty presence. Terra carefully pulled it out, handling it like it was a priceless artifact—which, in a way, it was.

"Let's move," she whispered, handing it to me.

We crept out of the office, every creak of the floorboards making my heart leap into my throat. The sword was heavier than I expected, but Terra's presence steadied me. She took the lead, glancing back every few steps to make sure I was keeping up. By the time we reached the stairs, my pulse was pounding in my ears.

Lavender's voice carried from the kitchen, louder than necessary, a clear signal that she still had Mom's attention. Terra gave me a small nod before we darted up the stairs, silent as shadows. Once we made it to Jaune's room, I exhaled, setting the blade down carefully.

Terra leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with that calm, knowing look she always wore when I was overthinking. "You okay?" she asked softly, her voice breaking the silence.

I nodded but didn't meet her eyes. "Yeah… just tired, I guess."

She didn't push. That was one of the things I loved about her. Instead, she stepped closer and rested her hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're doing what you think is right. That's all anyone can do."

For a moment, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. I gave her a small smile in return, murmuring, "Thanks."

Before either of us could say more, Mom's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Terra! Can you give me a hand with something?"

Terra's eyes flicked toward the hallway, then back to me. She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "Good luck," She said with a wink before slipping out of the room, heading down the stairs like she hadn't just helped me steal a sword.

I knelt on the floor of Jaune's room, my fingers curling around the handle of the bottom drawer in his desk. With a firm tug, I pulled it free, setting it aside before leaning in to peer into the hollow space behind it. The back of the desk was plain, dusty, and unremarkable—a hiding spot so mundane it was perfect. No one would think to look here.

Crocea Mors rested beside me, its polished metal catching the faint light streaming through the window. The sight of it made my chest tighten. This sword—this piece of our grandfather's legacy—was never meant to be hidden like this. My hands trembled as I picked it up, its cool weight pressing into my palms. It wasn't just physically heavy; it carried the weight of everything I'd tried to do for Jaune, everything I'd failed to achieve.

I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping him. But here I was, sliding a piece of our family's history into the shadows, treating it like some forbidden mistake that no one could know about.

Sliding the blade into the hollow space, I felt a lump form in my throat. What was the point? The plan to get him a teacher had fallen apart. I'd stolen this sword—lied to everyone—for nothing. Jaune couldn't train himself. Not properly, not safely. And now here I was, stuffing a piece of family history into a desk like it was some contraband I was too ashamed to admit existed. All it did was leave me feeling bitter and defeated, with nothing to show for it but an empty plan and a suffocating sense of regret.

My mind drifted back to earlier that day, to the conversation that had derailed everything. I'd gone to see Old Man Richard, Grandpa's partner from his Hunter days. I'd felt so sure of myself when I knocked on his door, armed with stories about Jaune—how he'd unlocked his Aura, how my punches had bounced harmlessly off that shimmering golden shield he could conjure. I thought if anyone could understand how special Jaune was, it would be Richard.

But he didn't even give me a chance. "You really think some kid like that can handle Crocea Mors?" he'd said, his voice cold and dismissive. "Unlocking Aura doesn't make you special." He practically spat the words at me.

I'd tried to argue, to make him see, but he just shook his head and slammed the door in my face. The sound of the lock clicking echoed in my ears long after I turned away, standing there on his porch like an idiot. I wanted to scream. Instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked away, feeling smaller with every step.

I was jolted back to the present by Lavender's voice. "Saff? What's wrong?" she asked softly, her presence suddenly at the door. She must've seen the look on my face, or maybe the way I'd been staring at the drawer for too long.

I sighed, pushing the drawer back into place with more force than necessary. "The old man refused to hear me out," I muttered, not looking at her. "Jaune doesn't have a teacher, and now I'm hiding this stupid sword for nothing."

Lavender frowned, her expression caught between concern and irritation. "He didn't even listen?" she asked, though her tone made it clear she already knew the answer.

"No," I said bitterly. "He just slammed the door in my face like I was wasting his time. He doesn't care what Jaune can do or what he needs."

Lavender was quiet for a moment, and I could feel her eyes on me, like she was deciding something. Then, straightening her posture, she said, "I'm going to talk to him."

I blinked, surprised. "What? Lavender, he's not going to—"

"I'll make him listen," she interrupted, her tone firm. "Maybe he'll take me seriously."

Before I could argue, she was already heading out of the room, her mind clearly made up. I stared at the closed door she left behind, her words lingering in the air like a promise I wasn't sure she could keep. Turning back to the desk, I adjusted the last drawer one more time, making sure everything was perfectly aligned.

The sword was hidden now, tucked safely away where no one would think to look. But the unease in my chest didn't go anywhere. If anything, it lingered, a dull ache that wouldn't let me forget how everything had gone so wrong. All I could do now was hope Lavender could succeed where I'd failed. Because if she couldn't… I had no idea what we'd do next.

Richard POV

I eased back into my worn-out couch with a groan, the soft creak of the cushions the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. My favorite show was about to start, and the old TV flickered to life, bathing the dimly lit room in a pale, bluish glow. Stretching my legs out, I felt the familiar ache in my knees and back subside just a little as I sank into my usual spot. For once, it felt like I could simply relax.

Then came the knock.

It was soft at first, a tentative rapping on the front door. I frowned, glancing toward the sound but making no move to get up. Whoever it was would go away if I ignored them. People should know better than to bother an old man this late in the evening.

The second knock was louder, more insistent.

I let out a long, heavy sigh. "Damn it," I muttered, reaching for my cane. Slowly, I pushed myself upright, my joints protesting with every movement. Shuffling toward the door, each step felt like more effort than it should have been. Whoever was on the other side of that door, they'd better have a damn good reason for pulling me away from my show.

By the time the third knock came, I was close enough to the door to feel the vibrations through the floor. I didn't bother shouting at the mystery visitor. Instead, I waited. The moment they knocked for the fourth time, I whipped the door open with a speed that surprised even me.

The girl on my doorstep squeaked, startled, her hand frozen mid-air. I blinked in surprise. It was Lavender—or at least, I thought it was. The scrawny little kid I remembered had grown into a young woman, taller than me now. Her pale complexion stood out in the evening gloom, and her long blonde hair ended in purple tips.

I couldn't help but smirk. "So, Juniper finally lost that fight, huh?" I said, gesturing to her hair.

Lavender's expression didn't change. "We need to talk," she said, her voice firm, almost commanding.

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess. About the same nonsense your sisters were spewing?"

The comment made her eyes widen for a moment, then narrow with indignation. She stepped forward, jabbing a finger into my chest. "First," she snapped, "don't talk about them like that. They respect you more than you deserve. Second, nothing they told you was nonsense. Jaune is doing dangerous things, and no one's teaching him how to protect himself. Everyone's acting like ignoring it will stop him, but it won't. He'll end up dead in the woods fighting Grimm, and we all know it!"

I raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe some random kid managed to unlock his Aura and is using it in fights? Properly? Do you have any idea how much training that takes?"

"Yes!" Lavender shouted, only to break into a coughing fit.

I frowned, instinctively patting her back until the spasms subsided. When she straightened, her voice was softer but no less determined. "I've seen it. He came home with a bruised face and a tweaked nose. I helped set it, but then he started glowing—that golden light, you know? I watched as it healed him, right in front of me. The bruises, the swelling—everything, gone. He's not lying, and neither are we."

I sighed, leaning heavily on my cane. "Even if that's true, what do you want me to do about it? Teach him? His father would never allow it. Nick would have me hauled off before I got anywhere near that boy. The system favors active Huntsmen over retired ones. Even if I wanted to help, it's not happening."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "He needs someone. If you don't help him, no one will."

For a moment, all I could see was the little girl she used to be, looking up at me with wide, tearful eyes. But the weight of reality pressed down on me. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Violet. I can't do it."

Her face crumpled at my words, but I didn't waver. "Tell him to give it up. It's the only way to keep him safe." Without waiting for a response, I stepped back and shut the door, leaving her outside, and slowly made my way back to the couch.

My show had started without me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. My eyes wandered over to an old photo on the wall, a snapshot from my glory days as an active Huntsman. There I was, rifle in hand and my other arm slung over my partner's shoulders.

"Damnit, Lewis," I grumbled at the picture. "Your kids were troublesome, and your grandkids are even more so."

Lewis had passed a couple of years ago, but it was like I could still hear him.

"Ha, like we were any better," his voice echoed in my head, clear as if he were standing next to me. I could even picture that shit-eating grin of his, right before his expression turned serious. "Still, did you have to be that rude with her?"

I shook my head. "There's a difference between being truthful and being rude, Lew."

I could almost hear him skeptically raising an eyebrow. "But aren't you at least a little curious about just how far that boy managed to get on his own?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but the thought cut me off. "And I'm not saying you have to train the kid, but who knows? He may have managed something impressive."

I growled at the picture. "You're not even here, and you're still talking me into shit I don't want to do."

Grumbling, I grabbed my hat and made my way to the door. "Fine," I muttered. "Let's see what this kid's managed to do."

Lewis's laughter echoed out of my home as I closed the door.

AN - Oh yeah! another chapter down, feels good. It's a few days late though wouldn't let me add it to its Doc manager and randomly decided to work today, I've never had that problem before, no idea what caused it.

FYI I rewrote the whole Fic, I didn't add anything but it should be a much better read now, it's what I've been spending most of my time doing.

Also also I'm still terrible at naming stuff so this Fic's name shall stay for now, if anyone has any idea feel free to send them my way.

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter and as always I hope to see you next time :)